The two stopped as their words overlapped perfectly before letting out small giggles. The audience around them continued to have their own conversations while Blair and George stared at each other in a form of awkwardness. They both felt the similar need to apologise for their behaviour earlier this evening, but the added atmosphere around them made it difficult.

"You don't have anything to apologise for, George," Blair sighed. "I shouldn't have been so... aggressive."

"You weren't aggressive. You're just a little defensive," George shrugged but then realised what he had said. His eyes widened and he held his hands up to emphasise his next words. "A-And that's a good thing! At least you're not a push over Hufflepuff."

"Um thanks?" she replied with a raised eyebrow. "They're not pushovers. They're just docile. Unlike you Gryffindors who think everyone's out to get them."

"That's not true! We're just prideful!" George put a hand over his heart and could feel his chest lightening at the sight of Blair's smile. Her eyes had changed from what they were earlier as the tiny twinkle that was in her dark irises had returned. It may not be as bright as it has been in the past, but it was present. He hadn't realised how dark Blair's eyes really were without the twinkle, and he hoped that he'd never have to see them like that again. They reminded him of the Black Lake and the Giant Squid was the hidden twinkle that was often said to be a myth. But he'd never voice this comparison to Blair as he'd surely get an offended look and maybe a hex sent his way.

"I am sorry though," Blair moved back to the original subject, adjusting her tight blouse and buttoning up the open collar. "I know I'm... difficult. All I seem to do is to regret everything."

"You are a little difficult, I suppose. But please don't feel like everything's your fault. I know you're not open about some things and I should respect that. But I want you to know that you can talk to me, Blair. You have people here to support you," George gestured to the three girls beside her that were not-so-subtly eavesdropping on their conversation. Blair was prepared to swipe her hand against George's arm at first for admitting that she was difficult, but melted under his stare as he continued. He looked down at her with such gentleness in his eyes that she'd think he was looking at a new born baby or a kitten.

Blair felt a smile stretch on to her face and George smiled back in return. She leaned forward and pressed her lips softly against his, her eyes sliding shut and the noise around them blurred into a low hum. George didn't hesitate to return the gentle kiss and put his hand on her bare knee, forgetting about the fact that nearly Blair's entire bottom half was exposed. Nancy, Mina and Poppy grinned to each other as they watched from next to them, not daring to break up the moment that they had been hoping for.

George pulled away first but let Blair's bottom lip tug between his for moment, before both of their eyes opening and staring at each other. Even though Blair wasn't completely satisfied with still having to go back to the orphanage, she at least wouldn't have to spend the entirety of the holidays worrying whether George still wanted to 'deal' with her. And what he had said had been true. She had people that she could talk to and make the situation that little bit lighter. She may not be able to send letters while at the orphanage, but she was able to receive them as long as the owls sending them weren't seen.

"My parents are here by the way," he spoke up after a while. "They want to meet you."

"Dressed like this?!" Blair gasped and gestured down to her clothing.

"There's nothing wrong with it," George shrugged, trying his best to keep his ears from visibly flaring up at the sight of her smooth legs. "It's cute."

"There's everything wrong with it."

The two were pulled from their discussion as Professor Dumbledore's voice rang out through the stadium and reminded them where they were. They had forgotten that they were attending the final task in a crowd of anticipating Hogwarts, Durmstrang and Beauxbaton students. Because of their solved conflict, Blair felt no awkwardness in lacing her fingers with George's. She squeezed his palm and George turned to her, eyeing her side profile with admiration.

"Okay, maybe you don't look cute," he said with a growing smirk and Blair turned to him with a confused look. "You look hot."

---

Harry, Cedric, Fleur and Viktor had entered into the maze with the instructions to find the Triwizard cup that was inside. They had disappeared among the tall hedges and eerie mist, leaving everyone in the stands. Teachers were apparently patrolling the outer rim of the maze for the sparks that were to be sent up by the champions if they were in dire need of assistance. Other than that, those who weren't involved in the tournament were left sitting in near silence.

"Freddie was right, this is boring," Georgehuffed as fifteen minutes passed into the task and nothing else had happened. "What'sthe point of us all coming to watch if we're just gonna sit here for an hour."

"Moral support," Blair muttered and looked over to the next stand of the crowd, spotting Ginny's bright red hair. Next to her was a familiar stout woman with the same colour hair, followed by a tall man who resembled all of the Weasley children. Blair realised that it was the two parents she would see every year on Platform nine and three quarters; Molly and Arthur Weasley. The sight of their resemblance to George, Fred, Ginny and Ron made Blair's heart beat in nervousness from soon meeting them. They looked to be joyful and understanding people, but it didn't help the butterflies that formed in her stomach.

Fred, who had been looking for his twin through the crowd, caught Blair's eyes and waved merrily. She was confused for a moment at his sudden enthusiasm and brought up two fingers to wave back with, only to see both Weasley parents see Fred's actions. She could see them ask Fred something and Fred turned his head slightly to speak to them with a wide grin on his face, before all three of them turned and met Blair's gaze.

A large smile spread across Molly Weasley's face and she started vividly waving to who she was told was George's new girlfriend. Fred sniggered as Blair's face turned red and watched her shyly wave back to his mother, before hiding behind George's tall frame that was able to block her from view. Blair was thankful that her lower half couldn't be seen and the distance between her and the Weasley family was far enough for her prominent bra to not be seen.

"Oh she's pretty!" Molly swooned as she ogled from across the crowd at Blair. "Are they holding hands?! I think they are! Oh Arthur, look at them!"

"What was her last name again, Fred?" Arthur asked while leaning down from the stand above his son. Fred's smile faltered for a moment and assumed that George had chosen not to tell their parents about Blair's family. He didn't want to do anything that his brother didn't want to do himself. If George hadn't told them yet, then he must want to ensure that their parents wouldn't be unnecessarily prejudice (which was highly unlikely).

"Er I can't remember. You'll have to ask Georgie later," he brushed off and his father thankfully nodded, turning to face the front once more. Fred sighed in relief and glanced to where his brother sat, seeing the bright smile that was on his face as he watched Blair giggle at something he said. He hoped that George had thought out his introduction of Blair to their parents and that he knew what he was doing.

Fleur Delacour soon appeared from the maze with scratches all over her body and her clothes ripped aggressively. She was crying and sobbing as she was guided into the arms of her friends and seemed to be refusing to talk about what had happened. Madame Maxine sat down with the girl and could be seen whispering in French, but only received several shakes of her head from Fleur. This put not only the Beauxbaton school on edge but all of the onlookers of the tournament. Everyone knew the last task wasn't supposed to be easy and would challenge it's participators, but seeing Fleur so distraught and covered in gruesome slashes made everyone wonder what was really happening in the maze.

None the less, the task continued with Beauxbaton being eliminated from the competition. Their students didn't cry in agony of losing but comforted their champion for trying her hardest. They had come to their senses through the three tasks and found that winning the cup wasn't in their cards.

Blair pitied Fleur as she sat with her school and went to look back towards the entrances into the maze, only to catch the enlarged eye of Professor Moody. The man was standing in the same place he had been for the entirety of the task, his hands on the top of his walking stick and his gaze entirely on Blair. He made no move to look away once she had noticed him staring and she now felt the same discomfort she had been feeling for weeks now. She hadn't been concentrating on whether the Professor had continued his odd staring since telling Professor Dumbledore. But seeing him so intently focused on her now, made her question whether the Headmaster had talked with him after all about the subject.

A loud gush of wind could be heard and Blair ripped her gaze from Professor Moody, seeing the name 'Potter' on the back of a red and black jersey appear on the ground. Cheers suddenly erupted through the crowd and the band that had been silent throughout the task played its victory tune for Harry, the winner of the Triwizard tournament. The cup itself had been tossed to the side and laid on the grass, forgotten and abandoned as Harry didn't rise from the floor. No one seemed to notice the boy's cries as they rushed down from the stands and started to circle him, applauding and ready to lift him into the air.

Blair followed the crowd with her hand clamped in George's, ready to congratulate Harry just like everyone else. Because of George's height, they had been able to make it to the front and have a front row seat of the horror that lay under Harry. She dropped the smile that was on her face and gasped at the side of Cedric's milky vacant eyes that stared at the night sky above him, hearing Fleur scream in the distance and halt any applause or music that once filled the stadium.

George's eyes were wide at the sight of Cedric's lifeless body and he felt Blair press her face against his shoulder, making him wrap his arms around her and hide her gaze from the ordeal. They had never seen a dead body before and it certainly wasn't something they were prepared for. The entire crowd around them was silent as Professor Dumbledore crouched down and began speaking to Harry.

"What happened, Harry?" he tried in his calmest voice, but the sound of urgency could be heard regardless.

"He's back! Voldemort's back!" Harry sobbed and a collective gasp echoed throughout the stadium. "Cedric, he asked me to bring his body back! I couldn't leave him! Not there!"

"You're alright Harry," Dumbledore tried to reassure, grabbing hold of Harry's face to steady him and hold his broken gaze. "You're here. You're safe. You both are."

"Let me through! Let me through!" another voice called out from the crowd and it began to part as Amos Diggory, Cedric's father, fought his way to the front. George and Blair were part of the crowd that parted for him and watched as he caught a glimpse of Cedric's deathly complexion and unresponsive figure.

"That's my son! That's my boy!" Amos cried and fell to his knees beside Harry, weeping as he hugged his son to his body.

Everyone was forced to watch as the father sobbed for his son and wonder what on earth had happened in the maze. The claims of the Dark Lord being back were swirling around the stadium in confusion and doubt, but no one dared to voice their opinion. Harry had at some point been taken away from the scene and Professor Dumbledore had stood up from the grass, searching for the boy frantically and soon running off with Professors' McGonagall and Snape. The Triwizard cup was left on the floor, away from Cedric with its blue hue dying and becoming grey to suit the solemn mood that clung to the air.